


Home for the Holidays

by scandalsavage



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Batkids Age Reversal, Christmas Fluff, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd are Siblings, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, NO CAPES, Tim and Damian are dads, and Tim and Damian's kids, it's cute, there is smut too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-13 17:29:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21497845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scandalsavage/pseuds/scandalsavage
Summary: Parents definitely came up with the cookies and milk idea so that they’d have a snack while they slaved for their ungrateful brats who try to wake them up at ungodly hours.“Dad?”Tim groans in his sleep. Maybe it’s just a dream. Or a nightmare, rather.“Dad, wake up.”He groans and tries to bury his face deeper into the pillow. It’s not going to work. It’ll just escalate. He knows this.Tim reaches over to shove his husband out of bed to take care of it. But his hand just lands on cool, smooth flannel.Right. Still away for work.The mattress sinks a bit as one of the kids climbs onto the bed.Then a small finger jabs into his ribs.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake/Damian Wayne
Comments: 34
Kudos: 616
Collections: Tim Drake





	Home for the Holidays

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw [this gorgeous age reversal art by JJMK](https://jjmk-jjmk.tumblr.com/post/189120223712/age-reversed-damian-tim-jason-dick-fan-art) in which Damian and Tim look like **_dads_** and I was just overcome with a desire to write something for it. They're the cutest family. Damian, who travels a lot for work which leaves Tim to handle his own job AND the kids and he is _tired_TM. Jason the spunky but well-behaved older brother and Dickie the angelic looking schemer who always manages to get his big brother to do the dirty work so he doesn't get in trouble...
> 
> It was just too good. Hope JJMK doesn't mind <3

It is still dark outside. That’s all Tim knows, lying in bed, warm and comfortable against a pile of pillows and a fluffy down comforter. He can’t have been asleep for more than a couple of hours after crawling into bed sometime after 3am when he’d finally finished wrapping all the presents and setting them out under the tree.

Parents definitely came up with the cookies and milk idea so that they’d have a snack while they slaved for their ungrateful brats who try to wake them up at ungodly hours.

“Dad?”

Tim groans in his sleep. Maybe it’s just a dream. Or a nightmare, rather.

“Dad, wake up.”

He groans and tries to bury his face deeper into the pillow. It’s not going to work. It’ll just escalate. He knows this.

Tim reaches over to shove his husband out of bed to take care of it. But his hand just lands on cool, smooth flannel.

Right. Still away for work.

The mattress sinks a bit as one of the kids climbs onto the bed.

Then a small finger jabs into his ribs.“Dad-dad-dad-dad-dad—”

“Alright! I’m up. Stop poking me, Jason.”

His oldest grinning down at him in triumph is not the worst way to wake up. He gives Jason his own smirk, watches the kid’s mouth fall open into a little ‘o’ and his eyes go wide as he realizes what is about to happen a split second before Tim grabs him, pins him down, and starts tickling him.

The shrill delighted laughter helps wake Tim up.

“_Ah haha. _No!—_hehe_—Stop! Dad, please!” He’s squirming and laughing so hard he’s getting teary-eyed. “Dickie! Dickie, help me!”

Tim pauses his assault to let Jason catch his breath while he turns to look at the youngest standing just off the edge of the bed. Dick is smiling and watching them with sharp mischievous eyes.

He knows his kids. Jason was probably up already but waiting patiently in his room reading a book when Dick showed up with a scheme.

“Dickie,” Tim asks creeping closer, “did you convince Jason to wake me up so you wouldn’t get in trouble?”

Fortunately, Jason, who is a very good liar, is a pretty laid back kid. When they catch him in lies, it’s usually because he’s trying to protect his little brother. But Dick, the little troublemaker, is thankfully terrible. He can’t help smiling when he fibs.

“No, it was Jay’s idea, honest,” Dick says, smile jumping into a big, ballsy grin.

The youngest is waiting for it when Tim lunges for him and almost slips away laughing.

But being older, faster, and stronger (and having longer arms) has it’s perks. Soon Tim has both his kids squirming and giggling and begging him to stop.

Finally he stops, grinning down at them. He often finds himself marveling at how they got so lucky. Their kids are beautiful and perfect and Tim would do literally anything for them.

They have him and their other father wrapped securely around their little fingers and he’s absolutely certain that they know it.

“We had this talk last year,” he says, a little breathless himself. “You’re supposed to wait in your rooms until 7am.”

“Dick said he thought he heard pop come home—”

“Did not—”

“Yes you did, liar—”

“Boys,” Tim sighs, scrubbing his hand over his face. “What time is it?”

Two sets of blue eyes dart to the clock on the bedside table.

“5,” Jason says, hanging his head. “Sorry.”

Dick looks at his big brother and purses his lips together. Then rubs his little hand over Jason’s back like he’s trying to comfort him.

It always makes Tim’s heart swell when they do things like that.

“Sorry, daddy,” Dick mutters. Then he wraps his arms around his brother and adds, “Sorry, Jay.”

Jason puts his arm around Dick’s shoulders and looks back up at Tim. “Can we at least stay with you the last couple hours?”

“Sure,” Tim answers, lifting the covers so they can all climb back under. “Just try to sleep ok? I was up late helping Santa so I’d like to get a little more rest.”

He lays on his belly, arms tucked under the pillows and tries to get back to sleep.

“Dad?”

Tim sighs. “Yeah, Jay?”

“Pop’s gonna be home for presents and dinner… right?”

Reaching out, Tim throws his right arm over both boys and pulls them a little closer. “Sorry, kiddos. Nothing’s changed. Your father won’t be back from his trip until after New Year’s.”

“I hate papa’s work,” Dick pouts.

“Me too, sweetheart,” Tim hums. “Me too.”

They fall silent after that. For a few minutes. Then they start loudly whispering about what they think they’re going to get and what they’re excited most about for dinner.

Tim shushes them gently a couple times but promptly falls back to sleep thinking about how much he hates his husband’s job.

* * *

Coffee.

It’s his first thought waking up. Not that that’s unusual.

But this time he can smell it. Right under his nose.

Prying his eyes open is difficult. His brief interrupted rest leaves his eyelids glued together with sleep.

When he finally manages to raise the lids a crack he’s face to face with a steaming cup of black, liquid life.

And emerald green eyes just beyond, crinkled at the corners with the tell-tale lines of a smile.

“Good morning, Beloved,” Damian whispers.

It takes Tim’s sleep-deprived brain to catch up. When he does, he turns around to find the boys curled against each other under his arm, fast asleep and drooling.

Extremely carefully, Tim untangles himself and silently slips out of bed.

Damian waits for him to throw on some clothes. Brown, fitted slacks, white button-down, belt; nothing fancy. He keeps his holiday socks on, blue and red and green, with Frosty the Snowman on one foot and Rudolph on the other. He leaves the awful, light-up sweater to throw on before they head out to the Manor for Grandpa Bruce’s gifts and family dinner.

Neither speak before the get to the kitchen where Damian hands Tim the steaming mug.

Ignoring the heat, Tim takes several large gulps. Then finally notices the writing on the mug.

“_Blood of my Enemies_?”

Damian grins and crowds him back against the counter. “Thought after three weeks taking on all the kids’ stuff by yourself you could do with a reminder that you’re a shark.”

When Damian leans in to kiss him, Tim hums and turns away to chug the rest of the coffee.

He likes it when the muscular giant pouts like a toddler.

Very slowly he turns, rinses the mug out, and sets it down. His husband doesn’t move his thick arms. Tim is not a small man, tall and lean, but Damian is built like a comic book superhero; with that broad chest, tapered waist, and huge thighs.

“Finished with your performance?” Damian asks when Tim turn back around.

Tim leans back against the counter and runs his eyes up and down Damian’s bulk. He looks downright edible in a tight, black cashmere turtleneck, snug fitted grey trousers. His shoes were removed at the front door but he’s still got his black socks on.

If only Tim could throw him down onto their bed welcome him back properly.

He drags his hands up Damian’s abs, across his chest, and around his shoulders. Only then does he smile up at his husband.

“Yeah I’m finished.”

The words are barely out of his mouth before Damian’s lips close over his. He licks into Tim’s mouth, tasting every corner like a thirsty man finally getting a glass of water.

“Thought you weren’t going to make it?” Tim asks when they part and start pulling out dishes and ingredients to make pancakes.

“I… _encouraged_ everyone to cooperate,” Damian answers with a sideways glance at him. “I will have to return for a few days after New Year’s to settle things. But it will not take nearly as long to complete as initially predicted.”

Tim watches him move around the kitchen, letting his eyes and thoughts wander as he stares at Damian’s muscles flexing and relaxing under his shirt.

Cooking is… not Tim’s forte. He stays in the kitchen for ‘moral support’, as he calls it but he really just likes to watch his hulking husband tie on the frilly apron the boys had made for him (with Tim’s help) for a past Father’s Day, that says “License to Grill”. Even though Damian’s never actually grilled, as far as Tim knows.

It is always a little surreal to Tim. Damian is a man who could tear a car apart with his bare hands and regularly dismantles international corporations to rebuild them from the ground up in his own personal crusade to create a more sustainable world. Watching him carefully shape pancakes into elephants for Dick and add exactly eight chocolate chips for Jason always makes Tim’s heart swell.

Both their eyes snap up at the excited cry of “Papa!”

Damian barely has time put down the spatula and catch the child that flies through the air to get to him.

“Hello, son,” Damian hums into Dick’s soft, floppy hair that could do with a trim as the boy wraps his little arms around the man’s thick neck and nuzzles into his cheek.

Tim rolls his eyes at the overly formal way of speaking but can’t keep from smiling at the obvious affection on Damian’s face. The warmth in his tone. Recalls when when they first adopted the boys and Damian tried to convince them both to call him ‘father’ and how they just laughed at him.

Jason isn’t as excitable as Dickie. He’s a little more reserved. But he’s quick to glue himself to Damian’s side too.

“Did you miss me?” Damian asks, grinning ear to ear. He holds Dick sitting on his hip with one arm and wraps the other around Jason, squeezing him close and ruffling his curls. Both the kids are wearing matching holiday pajamas, blue with snowflakes and polar bears. It’s just too damn cute.

Jason blushes a little and mutters, “yeah”. But he leans a little more heavily into his father anyway.

“We missed you so much!” Dick practically shouts, pulling back to cup Damian’s face with both hands and smush until the man’s lips push out like fish-lips.

“Alright,” Tim says, “Let’s let your father finish breakfast while we make sure there are enough trash bags for wrapping paper and blankets for snuggling. Then we’ll eat and open presents.”

“Last one in the living room has to clean up the paper!” Jason calls over his shoulder already half way out of the kitchen.

“Jason, wait! That’s not fair!” Dick shouts after him, wriggling so hard in Damian’s arms he almost drops him. “You cheated!”

Damians watches them dart out with a wistful smile.

Tim sighs and goes after them.

* * *

The day goes pretty much as expected.

So does the evening.

The boys seem to have an endless supply of energy. Especially when Grandpa Bruce gives them each little motorized Lamborghinis (Jason’s red, Dick’s blue) and lets them race each other through the house until they almost run over Alfred.

_Finally_, they snuggle under a blanket by the fire and Jason reads one of his new books to Dick until they both pass out.

Carefully, Bruce and Damian pick them up and carry them to their rooms to tuck them in.

After a few minutes, Damian returns alone, sits down next to Tim on the sofa, and pulls the smaller man into his arms.

Tim’s eyes flutter shut as Damian, starting at his temple, presses sweet little kisses all the way down to the collar of his hideous sweater.

“Mmmm,” Damian hums low, deep, and it rumbles through Tim like a roll of distant thunder. “I’ve missed you. The way you smell. The way you feel in my arms. Come to bed with me, _beloved_.”

He’s never been able to resist that tone; that word.

But he’s also never been one to roll over easily.

The room they stumble into frantically making out and trying to strip each other without separating their mouths is the same one Damian grew up in. It’s been redecorated from the teenagers sacred space it once was but Tim always gets the same thrill when they mess around here as he used to when they were kids sneaking out of galas to get handsy.

He shoves Damian onto the bed, huffing a little laugh at the way the bulky man bounces on the mattress. He makes quick work of his clothing, then finishes stripping off Damian’s pants and underwear since he was too distracted watching Tim get naked.

Those green eyes are so intense Tim feels like a fly in a spider’s web every time he looks into them. Even after all these years, that gaze has never lost an ounce of power over him.

Grinning, Tim crawls into the bed and up his husband as Damian shifts back to lean against the headboard. Drags his hands up the huge muscles of Damian’s arms, pressing his thumbs into the meat and admires the way the older man’s thick, dark eyelashes fan across his cheeks as his lids drift closed.

Cupping his hands around Damian’s neck, fingers buried in the short hairs at the nape, Tim sits up high in Damian’s lap so that he towers over him. He tugs on Damian’s hair, tilting his head back and _devours _him. Shoves his tongue deep into his husbands mouth, sucks on his lip, as his own desperation increases.

Heat rises under his skin, scorching and eager, in record time. Tim adds teeth and grinds his hips down against Damian’s thick, heavy erection and delights in the needy whine that escapes the huge man.

The ease with which Tim has always been able to take Damian apart has always given him a rush. Damian has always been so desperate for him that the older man just unravels and it’s amazing to watch.

Damian’s grip on his hips is bruising, large hands clinging tight like Tim’s body is a lifeline, grounding him. So Tim rolls his eyes a little, even as he smiles fondly, and reaches for the lube in the nightstand drawer. At the same time, he rolls his hips again, rubbing their cocks together, and bites on his own lip to hold back his groan in favor of hearing his big, bad, husband whimper like a puppy.

Reaching behind himself, Tim grabs hold of Damian’s dick none to gently and starts to slowly, deliberately stroke the searing hot length slick with lube.

He watches, enraptured, at every twitch of Damian’s facial muscles, every panted gasp. Takes smug satisfaction in every aborted thrust of Damian’s hips as he tries and fails to patiently wait for Tim to stop toying with him.

“You didn’t touch yourself the whole time you were away, did you?” He asks. Damian’s skin is so hot and sensitive. Every touch is making him shiver.

“T-took a cold shower every time I th-thought about you,” Damian confirms. “Took a lot of c-cold showers.”

Humming, Tim leans in so that his lips graze his husbands ear as he whispers, “I touched myself. I jerked off to the thought of you, laid out beneath me just like this, every single day.”

He pulls back a bit as Damian moans and squeezes Tim’s hips so tight he might break something.

Tim just tugs his hair again, arching his head back even farther, and kisses up his throat as he lowers himself onto Damian’s huge, throbbing cock.

The stretch burns just the right side of too much as Tim slowly impales himself. He plants a kiss against Damian’s flushed neck for each inch, enjoying the vibrations of his low whines, until he bottoms out with a deep, lazy, _filthy_ kiss with too much tongue.

Then he moves. Starts slow, grinning down at the love his life, marveling at how beautiful the man is with his eyes squeezed shut and teardrops clinging to his lashes; how _powerful_ he feels with someone like Damian falling apart at just his touch.

Damian tries to speed him up before he’s ready. Groans and lifts Tim easily and pulls him back down, thrusting at the same time, hitting so _deep _inside him that Tim chokes a little.

Tim gasps. Pushes away to put a bit of space between them, leaning back to brace on arm against Damian’s thick thigh as the other clings to his shoulder. And starts to fuck himself harder and faster, riding Damian like he’s desperate for it.

Which he is.

The new angle means Damian’s cock rubs against his prostate with every movement. Tim can’t hold back his own sounds anymore.

A litany of “_ah-ah-ah,_” gets punched out of him on every down motion. He drops his head back, closes his eyes, and lets his mouth fall open.

Feels warm lips on his throat. Feels Damian’s hands leave his hips so that one can wrap around his waist. Slaps the other away when it reaches for his own dick.

“N-_ah_, _nah_…” Tim gasps. “’m-_mmm _c-close.”

He speeds up. Leans back a little farther, tweaking the angle, and doesn’t bother trying to bite back the cry of pleasure that escapes.

Tim pries his eyes open, finds Damian watching him with burning emerald eyes, hungry and captivated. It pushes him over the edge and Tim shouts again as he comes all over both their bellies.

All the energy leaves him in a rush but Damian’s there to catch him. Closes the space between them, holds Tim to his big, broad chest and takes over. Kisses him gently, sweetly. Rolls his own hips, thrusting up into Tim, chasing his own end.

It doesn’t take him long. Only another couple of minutes and he spilling deep inside Tim’s body.

He can feel it fill him up. It’s only been a few weeks but they’ve always been way too good at this and god, he’s missed it so damn much.

Damian keeps Tim pinned against him as he flops back onto the bed. Tim happily curls against him.

“Worth the wait?” He jokes.

“Always worth everything, beloved.”

Tim shivers against him and Damian dutifully pulls the covers over them, even though it’s not a chill that caused the reaction.

“Did you enjoy your gifts?” Damian asks against his damp hair.

“I’m excited to play the board game from the boys,” Tim answers. “But I think the car your dad gave me is bit much.”

“Do you not like it?”

“Of course I like it, Damian. It’s just… extravagant.”

He feels Damian’s hum in his chest. “I only informed him that you liked cars. I will speak with him about getting carried away.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Tim says, sly smile creeping onto his face. “Just tell him I really like sports the next time it comes up. See if he’ll give us Knights season tickets.”

Damian chuckles then they lie against each other in a comfortable silence for a time.

“The cars he got the boys won’t fit in the apartment, even if is a penthouse. What was he thinking?”

“I believe he is under the impression that they will stay here and the boys will insist on visiting more.”

Tim frowns against Damian’s warm skin.

“That is diabolical.”

Damian shifts to rest more of Tim’s weight on the bed. A hand starts to creep down his chest and abs. Teeth nibble at his ear. Tim is wiped out from lack of sleep and a busy day. But he's pretty sure he has some energy reserves he can tap into. Just for this. It has been far too long.

“Indeed,” Damian growls.


End file.
